𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞

 ~ 𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙾𝚃 ~

The Parties. The flashing. The glamour.

For weeks upon weeks Bashar had barely spent more than five hours in his own bed. There was always money to be made. The money came in the form of club appearances and performances in stadiums that only seemed to get bigger as the months went by.

He was never intimidated by the large crowds. In fact, he thrived in it. He fed off their energy and gave each performance his best.

After each long performance, he would go backstage and immediately become bombarded by his crew. Friends both old and new would come up to him for hugs and handshakes.

His only moment of reprieve came when he entered his dressing room and changed out of his sweaty clothes.

He would stare at his reflection a little, smile, and often throw up his set.

On occasion, he'd randomly shout "baby come and meet the woo" and then proceed to get dressed. The night was not yet over.

Outside of his dressing room, the boys he'd known since highschool planned which club they should go to today. Bashar never really had a say but he did not mind.

Bashar made sure he stacked at least three chains around his neck and that his wrist displayed an equal amount of flashiness. He always thought it was too much but his crew always told him there was an image to maintain.

He walked out shouting a loud wooooo letting everyone know he was ready to go.

Outside waited two matte Jeep cars and one blue Bugatti. Bashar calmly walked to the Bugatti and sent a text to his best friend asking for the location.

After passing the location to the driver, Bashar relaxed in the car and lost himself in thought.

The past few months have been crazy for him. A couple months before the only people that knew his music were the people who lived in New York. Even then it stuck to a certain group of people, the ones in gangs and movements.

In a completely unexpected turn of events, suddenly everyone knew his song "Welcome to the Party". It was being heard on every radio station and even appeared on the IG stories of famous rappers.

It was a shock to him because his music always catered to a certain audience. But he was never one to waste an opportunity. His team quickly worked on reaching out to other artists and asked for remixes.

Suddenly Bashar was in the studio every day working on new songs. Eventually his first album Meet the Woo was out and he was making more than club appearances. He could afford all the jewelry and cars now.

Growing up as he had, his first instinct was to splurge. There was no need to be scraping by anymore. But the storm had to calm eventually.

Bashar soon learned that money was not infinite. Life was unexpected. One day you could have an abundance of something and the next it could be completely gone. So, the young man taught himself to save. To invest.

This is where life has led me, Bashar thought to himself as he watched the many paparazzi outside the club. Surely they were not at all waiting for him.

However, as he stepped out the car all he heard was his name from every direction. On instinct, he grinned his infamous grin and his hands flung up to throw up the woo. He posed, positioning his legs in that distinctive way New York boys who grew in his hood seemed to.